Forgotten
by HopelessLoves
Summary: An accident leaves Arthur confused and Guinevere at a loss... not completed
1. Chapter 1

_**I don't own BBC's Merlin or any of its characters...but I am a big fan, and this is merely for fun and nonprofit purposes. This isn't finished yet, but I needed to get it on here so it'd give me incentive to finish it. This is a story that is close to my heart as I have personally witnessed losing a loved one's affection to the memory loss from a concussion. One day I wondered how Gwen would deal with Arthur losing his memory of her...so I started this. I do apologize, it's not finished but I promise I will finish it! Until then, I hope you enjoy the very beginning...commenting is love :)**_

She could do nothing. It was out of her hands, and Guinevere knew it.

She wiped the tears from her face and breathing deeply, pulled her hair out of her face, trying to acquire some of her dignity back.

Arthur's fall had been no one's fault, least of all his own. The shocking news that he did not remember certain people in his life was disturbing enough, but the look in his eyes as he passed her in the castle corridors, or rather, the lack of a look, was horribly terrifying. She could honestly say that she had never before known such loss. Her Father died loving his daughter and knowing her love in return, but with Arthur it was not so. With his memory loss she lost not just a love but her dearest friend. She had wanted to marry this man who now could not even distinguish her face from any other servant in the castle! All the memories, all the time spent together; comfort, love, words of wisdom, special moments…seemingly lost forever. Arthur Pendragon as she knew him had vanished, seemingly forever.

This loss had been great; Arthur didn't even know what made him get up the morning anymore. He spent his days wandering the castle, touching the ancient statues as if they might tell him the secrets he had forgotten. And Gwen could not comfort him; she could not hold his face in her hands and whisper that he would be all right. It drove her mad to watch him day after day suffering in silence in his loss of identity, without the ability to comfort him.

One day Gwen had been carrying a tray of fruit through the halls, thinking of none other than the man who had so quickly disappeared from her life. When the same figure appeared in front of her, she could not turn in time and she fell into the Crown Prince of Camelot.

She hurriedly apologized, trying to gather up the dropped food when his hand reached down to her. She took his hand without thinking and smiled warmly at him, forgetting herself. Arthur looked down at her and visibly froze for a moment, recognizing something there in the loving gaze she gave him.

Instantly he looked down at his hand, which was still entwined with Gwen's, and quickly withdrew it. Hurt swallowed Gwen as she watched him hurriedly walk the opposite direction, leaving her hand tingling and her heart emptier than it had been before.

This was going to take some getting used to…and yet, she knew that she never really would.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur stood at his window, the features on his face cold and hard despite the warm sunlight streaking across it. The days were long and the nights even more so. If he was not trying in vain to find a task that would take his mind off the recent events, he was aimlessly wandering the castle or lying awake with nothing to comfort him. Glassy-eyed and numb to the world, he felt completely detached from everything…and everyone. And when he was able to sleep, the dreams began. He was plagued by the same images each night; eyes of chocolate, bronzed lips whispering his name, and the color of lavender. Arthur always woke up in a sweat with an unshakeable sense of dread. These flashes took on a life of their own in his nightmares, screaming at him to remember. He was beginning to feel as if he had forgotten something that was very, very important.

Arthur inhaled, holding the bridge of his nose and pursing his lips together in deep thought. Would this ever end? He just wanted to be able to function normally without the stress of everything he couldn't remember weighing on his shoulders.

A knock at the door shook him from his thoughts, and he turned away from the window. Merlin, his manservant, strode in with a sympathetic smile etched on his face as it had been ever since he could remember. Arthur had quickly learned Merlin wasn't the normal breed of servant; he talked back and even argued with Arthur's decisions. Often Arthur found him annoyingly correct on most issues, and strangely even welcomed his company to the solitude and gloom of his own inner reflections.

Merlin's head cocked to the side as he studied Arthur for a moment, slightly aggravating Arthur into speaking. "WHAT?" Merlin shook his head, "It's just…since your memory loss I haven't had the um," Merlin widened his eyes and looked to the ground, trying to find the right word. "…PLEASURE of waking you up, reminding you to get dressed, all that regular stuff." He then smiled to add emphasis. Arthur cocked an eyebrow, saying what words could never convey sarcastically enough. Merlin smiled slyly and clasped his hands together behind his back , "Not that it's a burden to wake you, dress you, feed you, clean up after you, get beat on during training practices (by you) , endure your incredibly sarcastic remarks and then go to sleep knowing I'll go through it all over again day after day…" Arthur scoffed, "Quit whining, MERlin. You don't have anything to gripe about…yet."


	3. Chapter 3

"Guinevere…are you all right?"

Morgana had not immediately noticed Guinevere's transformation from one who quite often began polite conversation to one who completely lacked verbal use unless spoken to. But now she witnessed it, quite plainly, every day.

Ever since Morgana's truthful re-education from Morgause, her "rescue" and the return to her once-beloved Camelot she had began to see everyone as enemies necessary to tolerate for the time-being.

But when her servant's now-constant mood was affected by an unknown cause, Morgana had begun to fear Gwen had some sort of suspicion about her lady. Too much was weighing on Morgana to let a foolish and meddlesome servant ruin her sister's hard-laid plans. Doubt of this kind had to be discovered and distinguished quickly, and if necessary, destroyed.

Morgana smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She watched the silent maid go quickly about her duties, never glancing up. Morgana gently grabbed the servant's arm as she passed by. "What plagues you, Gwen? I can see it in your eyes and your manner." The servant paused, hesitantly looking up at her mistress, her chocolate eyes numb and stagnant. The air seemed thick between the two, as thoughts and unspoken messages passed between the two women.

Gwen took a calm breath and lifted her chin ever so slightly, "I am fine, m'lady."

Underneath her pasted smile, Morgana was seething. She knew something, didn't she? Never before had Gwen closed herself up so resolutely.

Morgana nodded in understanding and took her hand from Gwen's shoulder. The maid took this as a release, and returned to her duties without another word.

Morgana's smile slowly fell to a grimace. She turned back toward the window, deep in thought.

The sun was starting its descent and the courtyard was amuck with people rushing to and fro. Morgana took a breath and glared into the distant forest. This servant could ruin everything… that _**must**_ _**not**_ happen.


	4. Chapter 4

Water fell freely from bucket to tub, the large suds concealing and shielding the water beneath it. Grasping a wooden bowl, its contents were taken and sprinkled among the soap bubbles. Rose petals fluttered down as gracefully as leaves fall from the wiped her brow with the back of her hand and sighed.

She had finished drawing Morgana's bath; there was nothing else that needed to be done.

She stood awkwardly above the steaming water, and peered around the room for her lady. Morgana had been strangely absent all day, doing things she didn't require Gwen for and going off on her own. Gwen put her head in her hands, who was she kidding? Morgana had been this way ever since Arthur found her stumbling about in the forest.

She sat down on the stool beside the bath and looked longingly at it, wishing she owned a tub of her own. It looked so warm, so inviting.

As if on cue, the muscles in her shoulder began to ache at the thought of the alluring water sheathing her in its balmy coat.

She shivered suddenly, feeling cool compared to the temperature of the bath.

Looking around once more, she proceeded to lower her pinky finger into the water. It was perfect.

She swirled her pinky in circles, pushing aside the soap bubbles and creating designs with the water trail she left behind. She smiled at this, not remembering the last time she had such simple fun. Soon her hand had completely submerged, and she was reveling in the sweet rose fragrance and the comforting heat.

When footsteps could be heard down the hall, Gwen stood suddenly and wiped her hand on her dress.

The bulky chamber doors creaked open and Morgana strode in at full speed, stopping only when she saw her servant. "Gwen. You are excused." And she continued on her way.

Nodding at the request, Gwen took one fleeting look at the bath she had drawn and departed from the chamber.

Perhaps someday she would have the luxury of a rose bath, she thought to herself…


	5. Chapter 5

Fed up of lying in bed with his thoughts, Arthur stood and left his chambers, taking the sword along with him.

Uther trusted Gaius's opinion to wait and see whether his memory would come back and as a result, Uther had limited Arthur's duties to that of which Arthur had not forgotten: training.

In the day as well as the night, Arthur found laying waste to an armored straw dummy was stress-releasing in ways he was surprised to find. So naturally after the usual nightmare, Arthur found his hands clasped tightly around his broadsword in the training courtyard.

The night patrol had gotten used to this strange custom, and despite ignoring the Prince, rumors were quickly spread of the once-great Prince of Camelot.

But Arthur didn't object; he knew the usual role of Royalty was practiced and habitual. "However, this Prince is not the man he used to be," he thought to himself. "This shadow of a man is now perplexed and vacant, like a useless tool whose handle had been broken off."

Arthur swung his sword heavily at the unmoving opponent, channeling his disappointment in himself and anger into each swing.

Blow after blow tore the dummy apart until the training armor cracked, causing Arthur to throw his sword down in frustration.

He roared to add emphasis, although no one was listening.


	6. Chapter 6

**_It has taken forever to get back to writing, and I sincerely apologize for not adding a personalized message at the beginning of my other chapters...hopefully they aren't boring you :) I have the storyline almost completely fleshed out now so it's just a matter of *writing it all down*, but do not fear Merlin fans! ;) Coming asap! For those of you who have hung in there and kept reading let me tell you that I appreciate it so much! You guys keep me going, so thank you for commenting :) Here's the next installment, just a few thoughts with Gwen and some info...not the most exciting but the next few chapters have some sweet stuff so stay tuned :) Again, thank you for following! 3  
_**

The night was thick with a heavy atmosphere and despite the music coming from the neighboring brothel, anyone venturing out for a walk in the cold would find no peace of mind.

It was an unsettling night, Guinevere decided as she chopped some carrots to add to her small pot of stew. It hung over her fireplace at a precarious angle, thanks to a well-meant but ultimately destructive cooking session with her Father. A sad smile found its way across her features as she paused a moment to remember the scene.

She hadn't fixed the handle, and wondered if unconsciously she didn't want to. He was the last one to mess with it, and maybe she was overly sentimental but it was something she sighed quietly, smiling in remembrance.

Gwen covered a yawn with the back of her hand; it had been a tiring day.

Along with her regular duties she had dedicated a good portion of her time to avoiding Arthur Pendragon, who was surprisingly hard to evade.

With his memory on the fritz, he didn't keep to certain areas of the castle and instead wandered everywhere. Though he was getting better at hiding it, the sadness and loss he felt followed him wherever he went. From the pain that dwelled in his eyes to the silence he clung to, he was very much alone.

Gwen pulled out one of the two chairs that leaned against her humble table and took a seat. Resting her head on her fist, she closed her eyes to focus.

People had become afraid of him; she realized.

He was almost unapproachable, even to his knights. They had lost their fearless leader, and could not fight an army or storm a castle to get him back. Many tried to re-connect, but the Prince had taken to training by himself. Come to think of it, the only person he spoke to besides his Father was Merlin.

Gwen shifted to support her head with both hands, her breathing becoming more rapid. She began to feel a sort of urgency.

These thoughts had evoked some precious moments with Arthur, times she had lately begun to relive in her dreams.

She could feel it now; the heat from his gentle but coarse fingertips on her cheek, his searing breath on her lips, the feel of his hair as she ran it through her fingers…determinedly she slammed her fist on the table and remained that way for a few moments, silently.

After all the crying she had done lately, she did not realize the depth of her tear ducts as they began to overflow once again.

The truth was that she was still very much in pain.

Deep, corrosive pain.

She was a mess; ignoring her problems by day and pining over a lost, and now unrequited love at night.

"Enough of this!" She whispered harshly. Standing up, she walked over to where her shawl lay across her bed and retrieved it.

A quick check to the stew and she was out the door into the very cold and unsettling night.


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin was _**exhausted**_. He ached all over; a fever was running rampant around Camelot, knocking a lot of the servants out and causing triple shifts for the rest of them.

Gaius had already eaten and was preparing the evening concoctions for the Royal family that Merlin would no undoubtedly be guilt-tripped into delivering. Gaius only _looked_ old; his wit and manipulation techniques were not to be trifled with.

Merlin had been so preoccupied with trying to find a counter-spell for Arthur that he was getting clumsy in everything else. Chores, verbal jousting, and the like were all becoming harder to do.

Merlin wearily peered up from the dusty book he was scanning to sneak a peek at his father-figure. Gaius was still mixing potions…still in silence. He shifted in his seat when a stabbing pain from his leg broke into his thoughts. He let out a moan as he tried to move his leg to a more comfortable position underneath the dinner table.

Silently he took stock of exactly _which _body parts he could still move with moderate effort. Left leg; incapacitated. Right shoulder; throbbing. Heart; … Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You've got to stop blaming yourself." The old physician's voice was gentle but firm, not to be questioned. Merlin looked up at his mentor with quietly flickering eyes, "Gaius, I can't. I failed; not only in my mission to protect my future King, but also in saving a friend." Gaius put the potion bottle in his hand onto the workbench at his side.

"Merlin," he began as he walked towards his progeny. "You have done everything possible to bring back his memory, his fall _**was not your fault." **_He placed a withered hand on the young man's shoulder and gently smiled. "Arthur Pendragon is not gone. He is lost and he is confused, but he will return."

Merlin shook his head, "What if someone did this deliberately? What if this was planned?" Gaius raised an intimidating eyebrow in response, "I seriously doubt a sorcerer bent on revenge caused the Prince to fall off his horse mid-stride during a hunting expedition in an attempt to sabotage the crown."

His words did little to comfort Merlin, except to cause his stubborn streak to show its face. "Why not? Stranger things have happened! I'm not going to rest until I find who did this to Arthur." Gaius paused, took a deep breath and walked back to his workbench.

"Perhaps…perhaps you _**want **_it to be caused by a sorcerer…that way you would have something to fix." Merlin threw Gaius a side glance, and was about to respond when a muffled metallic clanging beat him to it. Merlin recognized the clanking sound as chain mail upon metal. So he stood, venturing over to the window.

The cold night air caused him to involuntarily shiver. "It's Arthur," he explained to Gaius.

"He must've had trouble sleeping again…"


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur fell to his knees, head cast downward and resigned. His once-clenched fists lay open upon the ground in a gesture of defeat.

So long he had let the weight of what he couldn't change direct how he lived…so long he had given in to all the darker thoughts of his mind…too long.

Arthur pressed his eyes closed and moaned out a single-toned syllable.

It came out more pathetic than he had intended.

As if on cue, a thundercloud growled above him and rain came tumbling down upon him. Furrowing his eyebrows together he peered up toward the heavens, a fixed incredulous smirk on his face. He laughed, somewhat bitterly, and turned back towards the damp soil beneath his knees.

Grasping a handful of saturated dirt he watched the little slaves of gravity fall as clumps to the ground. Was he any different? Gravity being the blocked memories, the disregarded life he once possessed.

He had handled the situation poorly, that he acknowledged. He should be trying harder to reconnect with his Father, with his People…why did he not work more relentlessly? Camelot _**is **_where he belongs; he could feel it in his bones.

The rain pooled on his eyelids and turned his suit of armor into a musical instrument as it rang out a tune to the beat of the water droplets; a metallic symphony, every 'clink' chipping away at his resistance.

The thunder growled again and lightning streaked across the heavy skies, illuminating the musculature of Camelot for but a moment. Arthur slowly blinked, his face completely drenched in the downpour.

A smile crept onto his face as he swelled with pride at the vast structure before him.

It was beautiful.

"Magnificent." A gentle voice broke the silence, startling Arthur to his feet.

"Forgive me, my lord!" a female voice quickly apologized.

Though the darkness hid her face, Arthur could just make out a woman's figure, hands outstretched in a non-threatening manner. "I did not mean to frighten you, Sire."

At the sound of her voice he lowered his sword, "What is a lady doing out in the heavy rain at this hour?" Guinevere took a step closer, "I could ask the same of the future Monarch of Camelot?"

Arthur's eyes searched her shadowed face in vain. "You seem to have the advantage, my lady. Do you possess a name I might remember you by?'' She chuckled quietly at this, for a reason Arthur did not quite understand.

"My name is of no consequence, much like myself." Arthur narrowed his eyes in confusion. It was unusual for a noblewoman to deny their name and status, and even more unusual for a proper lady to wander out at this hour…she was different.

The woman standing in shadow took a step forward, clasping her hands at her waist. "Sire, I don't mean to overstep my bounds…" she peered down for a moment, almost as if she was afraid to continue on.

Arthur suddenly felt pity for her, she seemed troubled herself. This lady held herself upright but her movements were slow and her head was downcast. She seemed to find strength to continue and lifted her head, "you seem troubled is all."

Arthur blinked slowly; he was touched by this stranger's concern for his well-being. He wondered if they had been better acquainted before his head trauma.

Clearing his throat he gently nodded his head. "I'll be fine, thank you." Guinevere nodded as well as she motioned to the shredded dummy. "Do you often come out at night to fight the undead demons and monsters that threaten Camelot's gates?" Arthur turned to look at the dummy's remains and shamefully grinned. "Ah. Yes, actually."Smiling into the darkness, he found he wished he could see more of her face.

Her voice was soothing, and when she quietly laughed he found himself smiling in response…

_Which was ridiculous. He didn't even know her._

The heavens growled, causing the couple to look upward in concern.

Gwen tucked a stray curl behind her ear; she hated acting so timid towards him. She searched his face as he searched the heavens. _It's strange…seeing him so lost, so lonely. Such a stranger, even to himself._

This whole conversation had run very differently in her mind, the best scenario ending in a kiss.

The darkness hid the blush that crept across her cheeks as she let out a quiet sigh, looking at her fingers once more. Being here with him it seemed so easy to forget anything horrific had happened.

Pain seared down her chest as the reality of who she was to him became clear to her once again. Her hopeful heart kept trying to mend her broken faith; she told herself everything was going to be as it was, Arthur would remember her and the pain would go away.

As she silently watched him studying the heavy clouds she realized he was still there. Her Arthur. He was mentally in another time, another place. This Arthur was from a different moment in time. A reality where their love simply did not exist. A reality that had broken into her own.

Arthur seemed to sense her unrest, scattering her thoughts as he spoke up. "Are _**you**_ alright?" Gwen lifted her head to meet his gaze, mentally chastising herself for getting lost in thought in his presence. "Yes," she smiled. Her sorrowful eyes betrayed the nonchalance in her voice, though he could not see.

Arthur was gradually coming to the conclusion that the mysterious woman in front of him held a lot on her mind. He sheathed his sword, clearing his throat in awkwardness.

"It's late, shall I walk you home?" Instead of accepting as he anticipated, the woman seemed suddenly anxious. "No, no. Thank you, I'll find my own way home. "

Bowing her head she almost whispered, "Good night, my lord," and turned around toward the opposite direction of the castle.

Arthur watched her go with a nagging curiosity.

_She did not leave her name…_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Oh my lovely friends…thank you for being so patient with me! These past few months have been crazy, and I am now completely focused on my writing so hopefully you'll see a lot more from me this summer This chapter was hard for me to complete…I wasn't sure exactly how I wanted Gwen to react to her meeting with Arthur the night before. And then I realized she would most likely push it to the back of her mind for a while, to really process it later. She's a busy woman! But I didn't allow her that luxury ;) I hope you enjoy this little segment, MORE IS COMING I promise! Commenting is love Again, thank you all for reading! 3 Don't forget to check out all the Merlin goodies that are coming out of filming it's quite lovely to see fresh photos of my favorite cast again…September, darling, you can't come quick enough.**_

Morning came with quiet warmth and a gentle touch. Guinevere opened her eyes to streaks of sunlight coloring in the corners of her small home. She noticed small specks of dust suspended in the beams of sunshine; they seemed to be dancing, giving the cottage a magical feel. The corners of her mouth rose in a smile; breathing in deeply she stretched her arms and brought them back to rest under her cheek.

_**These are the kind of mornings I miss...the ones filled with hope and beauty.**_

Her dark lashes fluttered as she tried in vain to keep her eyes open; the brightness of the room was overwhelming. She ran her hand down the bottom of her nightgown, smoothing out the wrinkles and silently feeling every stitch along the hem. It was her Mother's handiwork. What her Mother had achieved in her embroidery and sewing Gwen had saved for many years; her own skill was nothing to scoff at, yet her Mother's work had a passion she just couldn't relate to in stitchery. So elegant was the nightgown, had anyone found Gwen sleeping they might have mistaken her for royalty.

Gwen felt the dress was plain enough to use, but in truth it was one of her most treasured items. She felt closer to her mother whilst wearing it; a small comfort in troubled times. Gwen willed herself to get out of bed, wishing she could lie there for but a few more hours. Once on her feet she continued to smooth down the gown, noticing once again that it needed tailoring. Her Mother was of a different build than Guinevere; but there was absolutely no chance of altering the dress, it was perfect for Guinevere simply because it was her Mother's.

Gwen peered out the window at the brilliant streaks of sunlight; it was going to be a beautiful day. Even so, she felt an ache in her skull. She had worked too many hours and slept too little as of late, and this fatigue was beginning to control her quality of life. "The existence of a servant," she thought somewhat wearily. Not so long ago she would day dream about not waking up alone. And though the dreaming didn't stop, she found that this once-possible-reality was now no longer attainable. Moving on was not an option; the constant presence of the man she almost built a life with was enough to keep her heart beating, and yet fill her with a sorrow no earthly force could take away…save for Arthur.

And here it was…her thoughts had finally come to rest upon him, though she had been avoiding the subject in her mind in an effort to not obsess over every detail. Their first talk in days, and he knew neither her face nor her voice. Had she really expected him to? Some wild part of her heart, untouched by the scars of love unrequited had hoped for a miracle. And yet his expression, his mannerism, his voice; all had been tainted by the heavy burden of pressure, anxiety and trauma.

He had been so full of sorrow last night, so vulnerable. In the beginning she had been afraid that he would become a completely different person; but the sad truth was he was exactly what she expected him to be had he been born into grievous misfortune and not radiant wealth and circumstance.

He was Arthur…but not Arthur. He was another depiction of Arthur Pendragon; and it fascinated her and frightened her at the same time. Who was he, really?

Guinevere's gaze was drawn to her hands; it was selfish to think he would have given up his kingdom for her. Yet that was what he was willing to do, wasn't it? What kind of life would his choice have forced him to live, had he never lost his memory? It was at this moment that Arthur's playful smile surfaced to the front of her mind; she could see the loving glint in his striking eyes, the sunlight reflecting off his impossibly blond locks, and smell the sweet aroma of metal, sweat and horses that she associated with him. She couldn't stop the wide smile that now consumed her features, nor the tender pride swelling in her chest as the image of this man grew brighter with every passing moment.

_**Oh, my love…how I miss you.**_

His image was scattered by a firm knock on her front door, to which she frowned in confusion. No one should be calling upon her this early in the morning…except someone in trouble.

_**Merlin!**_

Panic rose as she flew to the door, tiny hands fumbling at the large metal lock. Finally it opened and she found herself face to face with Arthur Pendragon. She gasped, hands flying to her chest as she realized her attire was less than fitting to greet Royalty…or anyone else for that matter.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Well my friends, it has been a while since I've updated and I'm terribly sorry for that. (Insert Excuse) Anyway, I'm back and pumped for this story, I chose not to continue on the thread of the last chapter and begin a new thought earlier in Arthur's day. You might have to wait a bit before seeing why he showed up at Gwen's door ;) But good stuff is coming, just you wait! Thank you to all the lovely p__eople who have stayed with me this long! Your comments are so appreciated and I look forward to continuing this journey with you. Oh, final note: chapters will begin getting longer. Commenting is love! Enjoy :)_**

* * *

Arthur inhaled deeply, a thoughtful expression etched across his features as he surveyed Camelot in the morning light. Sunrises such as these demanded a captive audience, and he was more than happy to was nothing complicated about the simple beauty that set the sky on fire as the sun rose over the hills…it was his favorite time of day.

\And there he stood atop the castle wall, arms crossed and jaw set, looking every bit a Prince. He scanned the landscape and winced as a muscle tensed uncomfortably in his neck; he hadn't been sleeping well.

The dreams had changed from strange, distorted images to a foggy atmosphere where all of his senses were heightened; all but his originally thought it was merely his roaming imagination, but he had begun to wonder if they were actual memories, feelings he possessed before his accident. There was one in particular that fascinated him; surrounded by what he could only describe as bright blotches of color and a feeling of absolute peace, he supposed it was a suppressed memory.

A soft, subdued voice filled his head, the sound acting a balm to his soul. Between heartbeats, gentle laughter could be heard. And to Arthur, the voice was more soothing than a lullaby.

The vision itself was wonderful; what came afterwards, however, left him shaking when he woke. The beautiful dream transformed into one of dark hues, cold stone beneath his feet, and shadowed faces. He felt neither fear nor confusion; yet his heart reeked with anger, a flame rapidly growing by the second…and that's when he heard it; a piercing scream that broke through the rage, effectively searing his soul and stopping his heart.

The cry shattered something within him; it was a woman's voice. Raw passion he felt his blood run cold as the lady's cry echoed through the chambers of his mind. He had never before felt such emotion. And now, fully awake and standing at the threshold of his dreams, he found his own life lacking.

The sound of metal on metal brought him out of the stupor his mind often led him into. Arthur's features contorted and he closed his eyes a moment in reaction to the sun's harsh light. It seemed brighter than he remembered.

Down below his Father's knights were engaged in their training battles, sharpening their skills as they did every day at this time. Arthur merely blinked, decidedly indifferent. He should be among them; laughing with them, training them, laughing with them.

With ease the wind began to gently pick up, tossing his blonde hair about just a little bit. The smell of wildflowers tickled at his nose as his eyes adjusted to the daylight. He absentmindedly watched as the wind lazily swirled through the forest, down the main road through the village and finally into the courtyard where it ended its journey triumphantly by rustling a Knight's cape.

He was so caught up in the view that he hadn't heard Gaius approach until he was by his side, his hands gently gripping the wall for support.

"Sire," he uttered gently in acknowledgement. The tired, grandfather figure had always been kind to him, and though the two of them had not much spoken, he trusted him completely. Arthur returned the acknowledgement with a small smile and a nod of the head.

He readied himself for questions, advice, or a combination of both…but none came. Gaius simply stood there with him, looking out over the beautiful region in silence. Arthur found he couldn't stop the comfortable smile that crept across his features as he glanced at the older man before back over the wall.

"Thank you," was all he could say, but more than Gaius needed.


	11. Chapter 11

Sleepy azure eyes slowly opened as Merlin woke from his now-habitual slumber, complete with a book face down upon his chest. He paid it little attention. Yawning furiously he lazily rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. Absentmindedly rubbing the back of his head he smacked his lips together to get the blood flowing. Merlin rolled out of bed, clumsily kicking over a tall wooden staff he had found in the woods the day before. He rushed to grab the staff, although his arms were but a few inches too short. The staff hit the ground with a resounding "thwack," causing Merlin to squint his eyes in response.

_**There is no way Gaius didn't hear that…**_

Merlin let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as the loud clamor was met with silence. After concluding Gaius was not in the room Merlin crept out the door, not wanting to waste another moment. He gave half a thought to where his father-figure would be at this time of the morning then discarded it as nothing. He had no time for those thoughts today. After all, it was Gwen's birthday. She had been so tied up with doing her job that she had forgotten, and Merlin was determined to make it memorable…despite the absence of a few key people. His face began to resemble the thoughts of his heart as sadness made its way through his features.

_**Her father and now Arthur…**_

As he approached a staircase Merlin's steps became more determined, the confident strides affecting the rest of his body.

_**NO. This is a good day. Guinevere has been through so much, she deserves an escape from all of this. She deserves so much more than the sorrow she carries around.**_

Merlin's lips parted, making way for a loving smile that erased all the wrinkles of stress and melancholy. She was truly the strongest person he knew, and in truth the most beautiful. The way she handled everything this world hurled at her, and managed to still bring joy to any who crossed her path. Merlin smirked, remembering the bumbling nervous young woman he met on his first day in Camelot. He had barely noticed her as more than a friend, to think of her now he swelled with pride. A confident young woman had taken the girl's place, with a ferocious hunger for justice and a compassionate heart she stole the hearts of Camelot's people…and, at one time, its Prince.

Merlin was so lost in his thoughts he ran straight into his mentor, not seeing him. "Gaius! I didn't see you." The older man cast him an annoyed look and raised his left eyebrow in a threatening manner. "Merlin. Where are you off to in such a rush?" Merlin opened his mouth with an excuse but Gaius held up his hand to stop him, "Arthur is on the wall, looking over the kingdom." He paused, looking pensively at nothing in particular, "He does that so often these days, and it worries me. Perhaps you could speak with him?" Merlin nodded, though other thoughts consumed his mind. "Yes, but it's Gwen's birthday and I wanted to make it special. Could you cover for me with Arthur for a bit?" Gaius started to sigh as Merlin quickly added, "Tell him I'm anywhere; at the tavern, getting supplies, anything. I'll be back soon!" Gaius nonverbally conceded, and ushered Merlin off with a motion of the head. "Give Guinevere my regards." Merlin smiled cheekily, "Thanks!" And rushed off without another word, leaving Gaius standing by himself at the top of the stairwell.

He didn't have much time, though. He still had to sneak out a picnic basket from the kitchens and nab Guinevere before she came into work. It was going to be an interesting day.

Gaius shook his head; Merlin was always rushing off to do something "important." Funny how the "important" things never seemed to include his chores…the sound of chainmail and the Prince's rather aimless footsteps came clattering down the hall as Gaius looked up to greet the man. Arthur looked slightly better; having gotten some fresh air had done him good. "Sire," Gaius addressed politely as the Prince laid eyes on him. "Gaius. Thank you for your…" he thought for a moment, "…silence this morning. It was appreciated." The first small smile Gaius had seen on the young man's face since the accident appeared, bringing with it a little hope. Gaius smiled, "Of course, your majesty."

But before Gaius could turn and continue on his journey, Arthur stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Did you happen to see Merlin? He's late, I can't find him anywhere." Gaius responded quickly without thought, "He went to visit Guinevere." As soon as the words were out of his mouth Gaius regretted them. Arthur was unfazed and musingly responded with merely, "Guinevere…and where might she live?"

Naturally, Gaius hesitated.

_**The Prince will find someone else to tell him where Guinevere lives if I do not. Either way, she is going to get a surprise visitor. Maybe it would be good for her to stop hiding in the shadows when he is around? Maybe she needs to speak to him directly.**_

Making up his mind Gaius gave him the directions, praying that nothing ill would come of their meeting. Arthur nodded to him, "thank you. I'll try there."

After the Prince had walked past him, Gaius's features contorted in wonder and he said a prayer as he continued on his way.

_**So Be It.**_


End file.
